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Chapter 11 - Long Live the King (R)
🕑 Added 2025-09-23 21:52:36 +0000 UTCStorm’s End
Next Day
“Where in the seven hells did you learn to fight like that?” That half-giant of a man, Gregor Clegane, had gone down so quickly and easily, Steffon wasn’t sure if it was even real.
Not to mention, it was a two-on-one fight.
Robert just grinned. “Here and there. There are a lot of good warriors in Essos.” It was the truth, just lacking in details.
“You were always strong, but this was astounding, though I don’t think your mother liked the sight of it.” His wife wasn’t the only one who balked at the sight of seeing Robert rip a man’s head off.
Robert winced. “I’ll let you know when I intend to cause a mess like that again.”
“Wonderful.” His father had his sarcasm coat on today. “Here.” He dropped a thick stack of letters on Robert’s lap, suddenly amused.
“What are these?” Robert inspected the letters, seeing that the first envelope on top had the sigil of House Florent.
They weren’t offering Selyse to Stannis, were they?
“Betrothal offers for you.” Steffon dropped two more stacks on Robert’s lap, enjoying his son’s annoyance too much.
The Lord of Storm’s End pulled the first letter on the third stack out, with the sigil of House Hightower. “Hightowers gave the best terms so far. They offered to foster Renly, allow Stormlanders to learn at their Medicine Center, and trade offers along with your pick of the Hightower sisters as a wife.”
“I am against fostering Renly and not interested in the Hightowers—Malora is called the Mad Maid, and don’t even get me started on the rest. Trade is fine, and so is sending people to this medicine center. In fact, if Renly ever shows interest, we can send him to learn there.” Better than being fostered in the court or, worse, played by the Tyrells like a tool.
Steffon’s grin did not waver; in fact, it got even more devious. “I am glad to see that you have learned how to handle these matters as well. I only wish it had happened before.”
“Thank you for your unwavering support, Father.” Robert replied dryly.
“My pleasure. Now, I am sure you will enjoy writing refusal letters for each and every offer. Maester Cressen is seeing to Renly’s lessons and can’t help you.”
Quickly, each family member made an excuse and left the solar to avoid helping Robert with the tedious task.
Looking at the stacks blankly, Robert sighed. Taking enough paper and ink, he left the room.
No way he was going to write letters while stuck in this room all day.
—
Top of the Drum Tower
In his younger days, before he went to foster in Vale, and during his visits home, his father had never allowed him to climb to the top of the Drum Tower.
But none could tell him what to do now, so enjoying the breeze and the fresh air, Robert began to write the refusal letters.
He was making good progress and had finished half before voices from the rookery broke his concentration.
“My Prince, should we not speak in a more secluded place?” Arthur Dayne’s calm and authoritative voice came from the rookery.
“Rarely anyone except the Maester of Storm’s End comes here, and I think one of the servants is following me. It is plausible that Robert is keeping an eye on us.” Rhaegar’s words further confused him.
“No, I am not.” Robert thought, but if it wasn’t him, then who was having Rhaegar followed?
Or was he just being paranoid?
“What are your orders, my prince?” Okay, now they were definitely plotting something, and knowing his luck, it would most likely be him.
“Robert will have to die, but it cannot be traced back to us. If we cannot secure the dragons, then the fury of House Baratheon will be upon us.” Eye twitching, Robert considered going down and throwing both off the tower, calling it an accident.
“Then give me the honor, my prince.” Killing him was an honor now? Robert didn’t know whether to feel insulted or complimented.
“Everyone will know it was me who ordered you, Arthur.”
Rhaegar’s number one favorite Kingsguard killing Robert? Of course everyone would suspect Rhaegar.
“Not if I make a spectacle out of it.”
“A spectacle?”
“Aye. If I slander you and King Aerys before everyone and claim I did because you were weak, that would anger the King enough to avert suspicion. If he gives my head to Lord Steffon, then you and the royal family would be safe.”
The plot to kill him aside, Robert was impressed by Dayne’s willingness to die for his cause. Then again, the Kingsguard were more about brawn than brains.
“Arthur, if you do this, then your honor will be besmirched forever.”
“It is a risk I am willing to take.”
“I won’t let your sacrifice be in vain, my friend.”
“Is that so?” Robert grinned.
He would make sure it would, in fact, be in vain.
—
A devious plan forming in his mind, Robert went to his quarters after finishing writing the letters.
Rhaegar and Dayne were going to regret trying to kill him.
Stannis, his brother, stood in front of his room with the usual servant that looked after his chores.
“Stannis, did something happen?” His little brother was frowning; whatever the servant had said must not have been good news.
“Aye. She saw Jon Connington enter your room and saw him leave clutching something.”
Robert barged into the room and went straight for the nightstand, where he was keeping the diary. Pulling the drawer open, he found it to be empty and smirked.
“Brother, has something been stolen?” To think that a noble would act like a common thief and steal, much less from the son of his liege lord?
Connington had no honor.
“Yes, the false diary.” Ah, Connington, willing to do everything for his one and only love, Rhaegar Targaryen.
“A false diary? Why?” Had Robert seen something in his dreams, or anticipated it?
“Just in case something like this happened.” He didn’t think it would be Jon Connington of all people, but he was fixated on Rhaegar like that.
“I suppose you’re right.” If this theft had not happened, Stannis would have thought his brother overly cautious.
Robert turned to the servant. This matter would have to be kept quiet. “What’s your name?”
“Melisa, my lord.”
“Here.” Robert handed her a handful of dragons. “You didn’t see anything; in fact, you weren’t even here.”
Nodding mutely, the servant left the room, still clutching the gold coins.
—
“Do tell the King that I need an audience to discuss their alliance offer again.” It was time to make Rhaegar pay for his arrogance.
Dayne, who was guarding the king’s quarters today, narrowed his eyes but knocked on the door, turning back to Robert after a small conversation with Aerys. “His Grace will see you.”
Entering the room, Robert examined the place given to the king as the guest of honor. “Quite the spacious quarters my father gave you. The benefit of being family, I suppose.”
Aerys, who was sitting on the bed, glared at Robert. “What do you want, boy?”
“To discuss the alliance offer you made.” He said, taking a seat without permission.
The king sneered. “You refused everything.”
“Not out of spite, I assure you, merely because your offers did not interest me. Which is why I came up with an alternative. Rather than what I want, I’ll ask you, “What do you want?” He would not give Aerys any ideas but let the king reach the conclusion Robert wanted.
“A dragon.” Aerys immediately answered.
It was obvious, but Robert had a part to play. “That is going to be tough. I raised them from eggs; they are too attached to me to choose another rider. I mean, you would have to look and smell like me to fool them.”
Let Aerys think he figured everything out without any help from Robert.
“What do you mean?”
“If the dragons can’t see your face but recognize my smell on you, they would think you are me and allow you to ride them, but I have no idea how to do that.”
“I can wear your clothes.” Aerys revealed the brilliant idea, but Robert shook his head.
Not that easy.
“Our builds are too different. The dragons won’t let you approach if they see your face.” It was all lies, of course, as the dragons would definitely realize that Robert wasn’t in the armor.
Since Robert had not outright refused, Aerys took it a step further. “Your armor. I can wear it to hide my face and body.”
“No offense, but I don’t think you can move well inside my armor.” Now, it was time to insult the king’s pride, which would only make him double down on the idea.
Scoffing at the perceived insult, Aerys did not give up. “I fought in the War of the Ninepenny Kings; I know how to carry myself in armor.”
“I don’t know… My armor is just too large.”
“I said I can do it.”
Finally, Robert gave up. “Alright, alright, I’ll take your word for it.”
“If you give me a dragon, then you must want something in return.” Aerys might not be the most intelligent of rulers, but he wasn’t a complete fool.
He knew that the dragons wouldn’t come without something in return.
“Tax and fee exemption for me and my direct line, and you will have to remove Tywin Lannister as the hand.” He wasn’t going to pay taxes anyway, and Tywin didn’t really matter to him, but Robert had to demand something in return.
“Tywin? Why?” Was it because of that stupid little whore, Cersei?
“He irritates me.”
“Fine. I will do it as soon as I claim one of the dragons.” With a dragon under his command, Tywin would not dare to repeat his schemes, especially after that knight of his failed.
“Works for me. Though, you should keep this a secret.” This was perhaps the most important part, because if Aerys boasted to anyone, then the whole plan would go to waste and Rhaegar would be aware that Robert knew of his attempt to kill him.
“Why is that?”
“Rhaegar and Dayne, they keep meeting in secluded places, plotting something, but I don’t know what. Best if the word doesn’t reach them until the whole thing is over.” Aerys was still a paranoid individual and agreed to keep it a secret.
—
“By the way, Dayne?” Robert spun around with one quick move, causing the Kingsguard to freeze in place. This would have been the perfect time for Dayne to strike, but Robert wasn’t going to give him the opportunity.
“Yes, my lord?”
“Is it true that you and Connington both suck Rhaegar’s peepee at the same time?” Robert asked, innocently, and Arthur Dayne flared up, hand on Dawn’s pommel, glaring at him, but couldn’t do anything in the end.
Grinning like an imp, Robert left the Targaryen quarters.
—
Next Day
Arthur listened as Robert Baratheon and King Aerys spoke while the Father of Dragons wore his armor for some reason.
When he heard King Aerys leave the Sword of the Morning, he prepared himself, ready to finish his task, knowing it would cost him his life. He could no longer hear the king’s footsteps and moved.
Robert Baratheon, donned in his armor, wobbled into the courtyard, but Arthur was too focused on a single purpose and did not think to question why.
Now sprinting, Arthur swung his sword while Robert tried to turn around clumsily, but it was futile.
The Dawn, forged from the heart of a fallen star, decapitated the Father of Dragons, and the courtyard fell deathly silent as Robert Baratheon’s head fell.
Screams and shouts erupted out of the spectators, and the guards of House Baratheon rushed at Arthur Dayne, dogpiling the Sword of Morning, who did not offer any resistance, his task complete.
The dragons, who were watching the stranger wearing their father’s armor approach them, did not even respond to the situation, going back to cleaning themselves.
Starks, Tyrells, Lannisters, and Targaryens who were mingling in the courtyard were stunned at first, what they saw taking a while to register.
Hope bloomed in their chests, thinking their greatest enemy was dead.
“What’s all this commotion now?” A voice, one belonging to the man that was supposed to be dead now, came from the gate, and their hopes were crushed in the blink of an eye.
Rickard Stark, with dread pooling in his stomach, slowly turned to face Robert. “If that wasn’t you, then who did he just kill?”
“Oh, that was King Aerys.”
—
“How did this happen?! Why was the king wearing your armor?” His father demanded. King Aerys, killed in Storm’s End by his own kingsguard?
No matter what, it wouldn’t look good.
Robert reacted to his father’s furious questions with the serenity of a still lake. “The late king, you mean, and him donning my armor was part of a secret agreement between us. As for why Dayne killed him, no idea.”
His father did not like the answer. “You appeared as if you knew everything, yet Dayne’s reasons for committing kingslaying are beyond you?”
“I am awe-inspiring, not all-knowing.”
“This is a nightmare.”
—
Whether in the medieval age or the information age, public opinion mattered a lot.
Robert, seizing the chaos caused by the sudden death of the king by his kingsguard, spread rumors that it was Rhaegar’s plan to kill his father so he could be the king.
Rhaegar and the Targaryens, too busy trying to calm the great lords, realized what had happened too late.
Arthur Dayne had no choice but to eventually admit that he had slain King Aerys because he was too weak and indecisive, forever marring his name as an accursed kingslayer. The Sword of Morning’s closeness to Prince Rhaegar was not a secret, which had only fueled the rumors.
There were grumbles that Dayne’s actual target was Robert, but he assured everyone that the kingsguard was present when he and Aerys were discussing the reason the late king wore Robert’s armor.
Proud as he was, Dayne had chosen to kill the king in full view of the nobles rather than assassinating him like a knave, ending the reign of Aerys II Targaryen.
—
With Arthur Dayne in the dungeons, Gerold Hightower and Oswell Whent were protecting the soon-to-be-crowned king.
“Do tell Rhaegar I need to speak to him.” He told the kingsguards, who were watching him with apprehension.
Hightower moved closer to the door, as if to protect it with his body. “His Grace isn’t accepting visitors at this time.”
“I am here to offer my condolences and support my dear cousin in his time of hardship. Just go and tell him, if he says no, I’ll leave.” Rhaegar would eventually come to him, but he wanted to at least speak to the Targaryen before leaving.
Hightower peeked inside the door and allowed Robert in after the king agreed. “His Grace will see you, as long as you are unarmed.”
“Seeing as the Kingsguard killed more kings than me, you should be the ones unarmed.”
They did not like that at all.
—
“You are devious. You could have exposed me or killed Arthur when he attacked you, but you chose to make one of the most honorable and chivalrous knights in the kingdom commit kingslaying.” Rhaegar’s eyes were filled with loathing, and Robert was sure if he thought there was a reasonable chance, his Targaryen cousin would try to kill him.
“Cousin, it almost sounds like you ordered Arthur Dayne to kill me. Thank the gods neither of us believe these ghastly rumors; otherwise, I would kill you.”
It was his way of telling Rhaegar to stick to the story, because it benefited Robert most of all.
“Why are you here?”
“I just came to give you my condolences for the loss of your father and offer you my voice to clear the rumors surrounding Ser Dayne’s actions, for a small appreciation of my toil.” Robert offered, and even if Rhaegar didn’t agree, he would still be the one to win.
“And what would your price be?” What could Robert want from him?*
“Two million gold dragons should suffice.” Dispelling the rumors about him being a kinslayer should at least be worth that much.
“Get out.”
“As you wish, but next time, the price will go up.”
—
Tormenting Rhaegar was fun at first but got boring quickly, and Robert turned his attention to future matters.
He, in his infinite wisdom, decided to build a trade empire, selling high-quality goods, ranging from luxury items to weapons and arms, livestock, horses, ships, and everything else worth trading, except immoral acts such as slavery.
For that, he had to have a person, a sailor, who knew the prices and where to get which goods, as well as the willingness to take risks, and he knew just the man for it.
If Stannis took Storm’s End, Robert would take Ser Davos Seaworth.
—
The Silent Sisters had prepared the king’s body to be carried to King’s Landing so he might be buried beneath the Great Sept of Baelor.
Robert was heading to the city as well, for personal business rather than joining the funeral or Rhaegar’s crowning ceremony.
The soon-to-be king had not come to Robert during the week that had passed after their talk, but once the rumors reach King’s Landing, he might just have a change of heart. The journey to King’s Landing was slow, as he had to match his speed to the host’s, but it gave him plenty of time to plan.
First, he would need a base of operations, and the logical choice was to build a city with infrastructure to construct a high number of trade vessels. To that end, Robert was going to buy a sizable plot of land from House Staedmon.
Of course, a city was nothing without its people, and Robert would do his utmost to recruit the best and most capable people on the continent and beyond and educate the ones with potential for his city’s future.
He had rescued several artisans of different masteries from the Dothraki over the years, and they were currently in Braavos, working in whatever jobs they could find. Robert would offer them the chance to practice their craft again.
The third step was diplomacy. Trade was the lifeblood of civilization, and he would have to negotiate agreements with the rulers of Westeros and Essos.
It would not be easy or simple, but retirement sounded boring to the ear when there was adventure to be had.
Now if only the slowpokes below could move faster.
